Long-tailed Tit nest

A Long-tailed Tit nest set in a fork of a birch tree

It has been a long cold spring in the Scottish Highlands this year, with the trees late in coming into leaf. Any birds which nest early, therefore need to be crafty in concealing their nests from predators. Long-tailed Tits, are masters of this. They build their domed nest with mosses and then dapple the surface with flecks of lichens gathered from the branches of neighbouring trees. The finished surface then blends in almost imperceptibly with the lichen-covered nest branch.

A well concealed Long-tailed Tit nest

Here an incubating bird watches from the entrance hole to the nest, set high on the right side. Even her face seems to merge with the colours of the lichen on the branch. In all, a marvellous example of camouflage.

A Long-tailed Tit looks out from its nest hole.

Spring at last

Birch catkins and fresh leaf buds

I have been in Scotland for over two weeks, and at last Spring has arrived, about four weeks late.

Rowan leaves open as last years berries wither

There have been cold northerly winds most of the previous weeks, with some strong westerlies bringing in wild rainy weather. Then after a particularly heavy downpour yesterday, today woke up to still, quiet skies and later a warm sunny afternoon. The leaf buds and catkins on the trees responded to the warmth, bringing bright green foliage into the landscape.

Tiny flies such nectar from rain-washed willow catkins

Wall Flowers

The front cover of the current edition of the Leopard magazine is of one of my images from a feature inside written and illustrated by me on urban plants: describing how they colonise various niches in our cities, adding colour to otherwise drab decay. 

Autumn Frogmouths

Tawny Frogmouths can be very difficult to see when roosting quietly up in the branches

We are well into autumn in Canberra now and the Tawny Frogmouths are even more tricky to find than in spring or summer. They can be anywhere in their home ranges, but this adult male and juvenile were still within a hundred metres of last year's nest. I couldn't find the adult female. I had expected the youngsters to have left their family groups by now, as this is often the time of year when resident birds establish or confirm their pair-bonds and territories. I thought I would find the birds in their favourite winter roost by now, the ones which are better exposed to morning sun and out of the cold south-west wind. This branch was in the sun, but higher up, about 15 m,  and more hidden than the winter roost.

The adult male, on the left, sits comfortably, partially fluffed up as he basks in the sun, while the young bird is a bit more secretive, taking on a partial branch-pose for camouflage. The adult bird has seen me many times before, so is probably less afraid of me.


The young bird is identified as such by her scruffy moustache and eyebrows, and her nasal bristles are not as finely developed as those of a bird in full adult plumage. She is definitely a  female as she has taken on a rusty colouring to her wing coverts. Males are more uniform grey.

Red Wattlebird

It is autumn now and the our local garden Red Wattlebird Anthochaera carunculata is re-affirming his ownership of the nectar-bearing plants, especially the grevilleas. This will be his main food supply throughout autumn and winter and whenever he sees another bird in one of these bushes he chases them well away. This the largest mainland honeyeater measuring up to 360mm in length, and when in pursuit of smaller birds, with determination in their eye, they look very like a sparrowhawk. Their name derives from the pairs of red wattles which hang from their cheeks, and they also have a splendid lemon-yellow belly. As with all honeyeaters they have specially adapted brush-tipped tongues for lapping up nectar and they are important pollinators in Australia.

Being large and heavy does have some drawbacks though, and they do have to stretch to reach the farthest flowerheads. Like this one outside the office window.